


An Impromptu Checkup

by sithcommando236



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex, Reaper hates everything, Smut, Widow and Lena love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 03:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7388602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithcommando236/pseuds/sithcommando236
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reaper hates having to check up on Widowmaker; to make sure that she is still fully under Talon's sway.  This particular checkup interrupts our heroines in the middle of a lovemaking session.  </p><p>See inside for sexy times and a deadpan Reaper!</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Impromptu Checkup

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm having a bout of writer's block with my other story, The Spider and Her Butterfly, so I wrote this in the meantime. The idea came to me and I couldn't resist writing it. I hope you enjoy! As always, comments and kudos are always appreciated ;D

It was eight o’clock in the morning, and Reaper was annoyed.  It wasn’t hard to annoy Reaper; in fact, he spent most of his waking hours annoyed.  He hated distractions from his personal mission of revenge against Overwatch.  He hated going more than a few days not being able to shoot people with his ever-present shotguns.  He hated sunlight.  He hated children and puppies.  Basically, he hated everything that didn’t involve him making someone/thing else dead.

One of the things that especially annoyed him was the fact that Talon had tasked him with making impromptu checkups on Widowmaker, Talon’s best assassin, in order to make sure that the woman was still fully under the sway of the Talon brainwashing program implanted in her mind.

He was presently on his way to make one of those ever-so-annoying checkups.  His boots clunked as he made his way up the stairs to Widowmaker’s flat on the second-story floor of a complex located in King’s Row.  The assassin was currently tasked with hunting down and eliminating one of the reactivated Overwatch’s agents; the time-bending Brit, Tracer. 

Little did Reaper know that instead of eliminating Tracer, Widowmaker had been somewhat rehabilitated by the girl, and the two were instead engaged in a romantic relationship while Widowmaker planned her escape from Talon in order to defect to Overwatch.

But, since Reaper did _not_ know that the two women were engaged in an extremely sexy lesbian relationship, he just grumbled internally about how long it had been since he had last shot someone in the face as he walked down the hallway towards his fellow agent’s room.    

He stopped in front of her door, then lifted a gauntleted hand and harshly slammed the heel of his fist against it four times.

There was no response.

 

 It was early in the morning, and Widow and Lena were making some hot and sexy love.

Widow moaned loudly as she lay on her back on her plush bed, legs spread as Lena expertly worked her tongue and fingers on and in the other woman’s soaking pussy.  Widow had one hand wrapped in her lover’s spiky hair, pressing Lena’s face into her crotch while she used her free hand to squeeze one of her own breasts and massage her nipple.  Her hips bucked as Lena used her tongue and mouth to massage and suck on her clit and pumped two of her fingers in and out of the Frenchwoman’s throbbing pussy, eliciting loud gasps and moans of pleasure. 

Widow screwed her eyes tightly shut and felt her breath hitch and her muscles tighten as the boiling lust in the bottom of her stomach began to overflow, her orgasm near. 

As if sensing this, Lena’s pace quickened, pumping her fingers in and out of Widow’s slick folds even faster and curling her finger upon each entry, hitting all the right spots.  She ran her tongue back and forth and around her lover’s clit, working her oral magic.

Widow’s orgasm struck her like a tidal wave; she cried out Lena’s name and clenched her bedsheets as her inner walls clamped shut on Lena’s fingers, coating them in orgasmic fluids.  Pleasure rolled through her body in wave after wave, muscles spasming and sending her into a blissful high. 

As the waves of orgasm rolled away, Lena left her spot from in between her lover’s legs and crawled up the bed to lay down next to Widow, smiling.

Widow looked into Lena’s rich hazel eyes with her own almond-gold ones with a loving smile, and kissed her, tasting herself on the younger woman’s lips.  It was not a bad taste, especially when it was mixed with Lena’s unique taste that was just so… so… _her_.

After they broke the kiss for air, albeit regretfully, Lena said in a lust-filled voice, “So luv, I reckon it’s my turn.”

Widow smirked back and said, “ _Ma chérie_ , I was looking forward to it.”

 

After hearing what sounded to Reaper like someone was getting a good fucking coming from inside Widowmaker’s flat, he contemplated leaving.  Really, he did.  Dropping in on Widow while the woman was engaging in some sexual endeavor was not high on his to-do list, but at the same time, he knew if he didn’t file a report to Talon Command, they’d be on his ass as well as Widow’s. 

So he slammed his hand against the door again and yelled the inconspicuous codename she had been designated by Talon when she was to be contacted in a public place such as her public housing building.

He yelled once in his raspy, serial-killer voice, “ _RACHEL!_ ”

 

Inside, Lena and Widow broke from another passionate kiss as they finally noticed the loud banging coming from the front door.  There was a muffled, raspy sounding shout of “ _RACHEL_ ,” then more loud knocking.

Lena smirked at Widow and said, “I think it’s Batman, luv.”  Her smirk was replaced by a look of concern when she saw that Widow’s eyes were wide with fear, and noticed that the woman was no longer breathing like someone who had just had really good sex and more like someone who was prepping to run away from a hungry bear.  “What?” she asked.  “What is it, luv?”

Widow finally looked at her and said in a very serious voice, “You have to hide.”

Lena was confused.  “What – why?  Who is it?”

Widow said one word: “Reaper.”  Then the Frenchwoman jumped out of the bed and threw on the first articles of clothing she could find: an oversized purple turtleneck to cover the love bites all over her neck and Lena’s discarded pair of boy-shorts.  She yelled, “One moment, _s’il vous plait_!” then gestured at Lena emphatically, repeating herself, “ _Hide!_ ”

Lena looked around the bedroom, then chose the first spot that she thought would work; she dove underneath the large bed, hoping the bedframe’s hanging cloth cover was enough to keep her hidden.  At the last second, she reached out and pulled the clothes that had been discarded the night before under the bed with her.

Meanwhile, as soon as Widow was sure Lena was completely hidden, she walked to her door and, after taking a deep and calming breath, opened it.  She was greeted with the sight of the skull-masked visage of Reaper.

 

Finally, the door opened.  Reaper wasted no time and demanded, “What were you just doing?”

Widow raised a perfect eyebrow and leaned a hand on her hip as she asked, “Whatever do you mean, _fantôme_?”

Inwardly, Reaper groaned.  He hated when people were difficult.  _Especially_ this particular someone.

He decided that being blunt and to-the-point was the fastest route to go.  Then again, he was _always_ blunt and to-the-point.  He rasped out, “You were moaning.  Sounded like sex.  Your face is flushed.  Someone else here?”

Widow’s eye gave a slight twitch, but her answer was just as blunt and to-the-point: “I was watching some really good porn.  Even a cold-blooded assassin needs a good rub-off once in a while,” she said with a shrug.

 

Under the bed, Lena tried really hard to keep from laughing out loud.

 

Reaper grunted then said, “I’m coming in.  You know the drill.”

Widow feigned exasperation as she stepped back from the doorway and held out an arm to gesture to her dwelling, replying, “If you absolutely must, _seigneur de la mort_.”

Reaper laughed at that, but it sounded more like he was choking on a mouthful of broken glass and metal screws.  He then stepped into Widow’s lair. 

There was a small dining table and a couple of chairs; a vid-screen on the wall across from a small sofa; a couple French paintings, and a bookshelf filled with an assortment of French books.  He pulled out a scanner that would pick up any foreign technologies; anything that might indicate Widow had switched sides or betrayed Talon and gone to Overwatch or gone rogue.

As Reaper made his way to the entrance to her bedroom, he heard Widow clear her throat, as if she were about to say something.  He turned his head to acknowledge what she was about to say, but instead she simply picked up a glass of water on the dining table and took a drink.  He turned his head back to the bedroom and entered.

 

Under the bed, Lena listened as Reaper stalked around Widow’s room, inspecting it for anything that might seem suspicious.

Widow made idle chitchat with the cloaked demon of a man as he scanned the room.  Luckily for Lena, one of Winston’s modifications to her chronal accelerator was a localized cloaking field which would hide any electronic emissions made by the accelerator, as well as render Lena completely invisible for a short amount of time; ten minutes, max.  She had activated it upon Reaper’s entrance to the room, but she was still sweating as she listened to his boots clunk around the room. 

She had to admit, she was scared.  At any moment, the cloaking mechanism could fail and Reaper would detect her, and he would kill both her and Widow – or worse.  It was a high-tension situation for her and yet, she felt kind of… _turned on_.  Hearing Reaper stalk around the room, opening and closing drawers and closets; Widow trying to gently guide Reaper’s attention away from the bed; Lena sweating in the darkness under the bed, hoping her cloak didn’t fail – she couldn’t help that she found herself sliding one hand slowly down her stomach, grazing the soft skin with her fingertips as she went lower, lower, and lower still. 

She gently began to rub her outer labia, biting her lip so as not to accidentally let out a moan of pleasure.  She used her other hand to massage one of her breasts, tweaking a sensitive nipple.  Feeling a slight trickle of her arousal drip from her slit, she pressed first one, then two of her fingers into her throbbing cunt. 

She shut her eyes hard and focused on breathing as quietly as possible as she slowly pressed her fingers in and out of herself.  The thrill of being so close to certain death while her lover tried to distract the thing that would bring that certain death – Lena coated in sweat just out of sight, combined with the recent lovemaking with Widow – it was such an arousing situation that in almost no time, she could feel herself nearing climax. 

She heard Reaper say something about using the bathroom, then heard a door open and close.  She knew that the door to the bathroom was all but soundproof, so she allowed herself a small verbal squeak of pleasure as she crashed over the edge, biting her hand in order to stay as quiet as possible.  Her entire body spasmed as her orgasm rolled through her, her well-muscled inner walls not unpleasantly crushing her fingers in a powerful grip.

After several moments of mind-numbing pleasure, her body relaxed again.  She laid there limply, covered in sweat and hearing the noise of Reaper flushing the toilet. 

Widow had sat down on the bed, but made no move to check on Lena’s situation.  _It’s probably for the best_ , she thought to herself, _she’d probably get distracted from distracting Reaper if she saw me mid-orgasm_.  She smiled at the thought of Widow looking under the bed to check on her, only to see Lena pumping her fingers rapidly in and out of herself.

Then the bathroom door opened and Reaper stepped back into the bedroom.

 

Reaper had completed his scan of Widow’s flat; it appeared to be clean.  There had been a momentary blip from the bedroom, which is why he had spent extra time in there, but there had been nothing. 

 _Stupid scanner_ , he thought.

As for Widow herself, she seemed to be her cold, unfeeling, sarcastic self.  As for the porn she had said she had been rubbing off to, Reaper assumed it was one of her body’s functions that the programming was unable to completely shut off.  Reaper himself had lost any sexual urges when the experiments that had brought him back from the brink of death were performed.  It was those genetic experiments that had turned him into the monster of a man he was today.

His search concluded, he made his way to the door that led back out into the hallway.  Before he exited, he turned back to Widow and said, “You’re all clear.  Talon expects to receive a report on your mission, soon.”

She smirked that annoying smirk at him and replied, “They’ll have it, _fantôme_.  _Au revoir, ma chérie_.”

Behind his mask, Reaper rolled his eyes and stepped into the hallway, roughly closing the door behind him.  

 _I_ hate _that woman_ , he thought as he clunked his way to the stairwell, happy to be done with the checkup and to get back to his favored violent missions.

 

Once she was sure that Reaper was out of the building, Widow let out a long sigh of utter relief.  She then immediately walked back into the bedroom and said, “You can come out now, _chérie_.”

She watched as Lena slid out from under the bed, looking sweaty and flushed.  _She was probably just afraid of that killing machine_ , she thought to herself.        

 

Lena stood up, stretched out her arms and legs, then twisted back and forth, her back giving a satisfying _pop_ sound.

Then she locked eyes with Widow.  They stared at each other for a good three seconds before both women doubled over, pealing out laughter that was a result of both their relief and the fear leaving their bodies.

Lena picked up two socks – one black, one blue – and slid them over her hands to make sock-puppets.  Then in a rough imitation of Reaper, made the black socket puppet say, ‘ _What were you doing in there?’_   Then she lifted up the blue one and, in a horribly exaggerated French accent, made it say, _‘I was watching some really good porn, chérie.’_

Widow tried to give Lena a reproaching look because of the horrible impersonation, but broke almost immediately and both women doubled over in another bout of laughter.

Once the laughter finally subsided, both women collapsed onto the bed.

Lena propped herself up on one still-socked hand and said in a low, loving voice, “We need to get you away from those bastards.  They’re gonna find you out eventually, and sadly I don’t think Mr. I-Hate-Everything is gonna to fall for the good ol’ porn trick twice, luv,” she said as she gestured idly with the sock that was supposed to represent Reaper.

 _She really cares about me_ , Widow thought.  The love that Lena showed Widow, even after all of the horrible things she had done as a Talon assassin, never ceased to astound her.  And so she reached up with one hand and ran her thumb along her lover’s cheek, relishing in its warmth as the other woman leaned into her hand, lightly kissing each finger.

Widow came to a decision.  “I want to come to Overwatch.  I’m tired of waiting and planning my escape from Talon.  I want to be with _you_ , _ma chérie_.”

Lena’s eyes sparkled in a way that made Widow’s heart melt with an intense feeling of adoration, and she leaned in to kiss the other woman, reveling in the sweet taste of her lips.  Their kiss deepened, and when they pulled back from each other for air, they both saw the lust clouding each other’s eyes.

In what seemed like one, graceful move, Widow had ripped her own turtleneck and shorts off and had, at the same time, flipped Lena onto her back. She kissed Lena on the lips; both women entering each other’s mouth, reveling in their individual tastes.  Then Widow trailed kisses down her lover’s cheek and jawline, settling at her pulse-point and sucking on it gently, causing Lena to release a shaky moan.  Then Widow continued her journey, kissing along her collarbone and on the parts of Lena’s chest that weren’t covered by her chronal accelerator.  She took a nipple in her mouth and gently sucked on it, swirling her tongue around it, and massaged Lena’s other breast with one of her hands.  

Lena gasped and moaned, writhing as she let out a stream of expletives, Widow’s name, and affirmatives.

Widow then made a trail of kisses down Lena’s stomach, trailing her nails along the Brit’s stomach as well, feeling goosebumps jump up in their wake.  Then, just before she hit Lena’s landing strip, she shifted and kissed along first the inner side of one thigh, then the other.  She wanted to tease her, to get her hot and wet.  She ran her tongue around the outer edge of her labia and above her clit, Lena trying desperately to hump Widow’s face.  Finally, Widow ran her tongue thickly along the length of her lover’s soaked pussy, ending a long swirl of her tongue against the other’s clit.

Lena cried out Widow’s name as she tangled one of her hands in the woman’s dark-purple hair.

Widow slid two of her fingers into Lena’s slick folds, curling them upon each entrance so as to hit all of those perfect pleasure points.  She ran her tongue on and around her clit, making it Lena’s turn to desperately buck into her lover’s face.

Hearing Lena scream her name and feeling her lover’s desperate bucking immediately got Widow hot and wet as well, and she reached in between her own legs and began to slide two fingers in and out of herself, in time with her ministrations on Lena.

Soon, Lena’s thighs began to vibrate and what might have been the most powerful orgasm she had ever had rocketed through her body as she screamed out an incomprehensible sound of pleasure, her body going rigid as her pussy clamped down on Widow’s fingers.  This set off Widow, who’s orgasm rocked her body as she came hard on her hand and had her yell out ‘ _Oui!_ ’ over and over again.

After a few moments, they collapsed next to each other on the bed, holding each other with their legs tangled, catching their breath.  Lena snuggled into Widow’s side, laying her head on the taller woman’s shoulder, kissing her there.

Widow gently stroked the outside of Lena’s arm, smelling Lena’s hair and reveling in the scent there; the scent she had become so accustomed to as Lena’s smell; it was a mix of fruity shampoo and what could only be described as _her_.  She knew she loved this woman, more than she had ever loved anyone else.  She made her happy, and vice-versa. 

She pulled back a little and looked deeply into Lena’s eyes, then said, “I love you, _chérie_.”

Lena kissed her, then said, “I love you, too, luv.”

Then they both laid their heads back on the bed’s plush pillows, falling into a pleasant late-morning nap.


End file.
